


I'm A Paying Customer

by JiniZ



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BYOB painting places, M/M, Titanic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/pseuds/JiniZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://www.meangreenlimabean.tumblr.com">MeanGreenLimaBean</a> sent me this prompt: Imagine Person A offering to draw person B like Rose from Titanic. After a few hours of posing nude, Person B goes to check on person A’s progress, only to find the canvas blank except for a poorly-drawn stick figure.</p>
<p>Challenge accepted! </p>
<p>She also did the excellent artwork for this piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm A Paying Customer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meangreenlimabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meangreenlimabean/gifts).



Sam looks around the studio making sure everything is where it should be. At least where he _thinks_ it should be. He really has no idea, to be honest. He’s just winging it at this point.

His brother’s BYOB painting studio was closing up for the afternoon. Dean asked him to cover for him since he wasn’t feeling well. He’d promised Sam that all he’d need to do was check people in and take their payments, hang around until the class was over, then close up for the day. Heck, even Sam could handle that. He’s pretty sure his law degree hasn’t educated him past his usefulness.

Anna, the artist leading the class that afternoon, had just left, apologizing to him again for having accidentally painted his shirt when she turned from her canvas, brush in hand. Sam kept telling her it was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal. He simply gained a new work around the house shirt. He looks down at the shirt now, lamenting its loss. He really does like it.

He takes one last sweep of the studio and picks up a stray brush when the door opens behind him. He turns to tell whoever it is that the class is over and he’s just locking up, but when he sees who it is, he stops short: Gabriel Novak.

Gabriel Novak is an ambulance chaser. Sam’s seen his commercials - _Have you been injured in an accident? Do you know someone who’s been injured in an accident? Do you know someone who knows someone who was injured in an accident?_ \- and feels that lawyers like Gabriel Novak give the profession a bad name.

_Shit,_ Sam thinks. “C-can I help you?” he manages to get out as he gives Gabriel the once-over. Two hundred dollar jeans, an [ Angelic Delights ](https://society6.com/product/sweetshop-verse_print#1=45) shirt, and a pair of purple Chucks.

“I’m looking to have a portrait done,” Gabriel says.

“We don’t really -”

“Nonsense. Of course you do.”

“It’s just that -”

“Name your price.”

“I’m not sure -”

“One thousand.”

“I - what?”

“Two thousand.”

“For a simple -?”

“Five thousand.”

Dean would probably kill him if he turned down five grand for a simple portrait, so Sam agrees. “Um...Okay. Sure. Let me just take down your information.”

“I’d like to do it now.”  

“Now? Like _now,_ now?”

“Son, do you know who I am?” Gabriel leans forward a bit, shrugging his shoulders and sticking his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not your son,” Sam bristles. He figures that Novak would be an ass just because of his commercials, but to have it right in front of him?

Novak seems to shift gears and there’s a twinkle in his eye. “No, but I could be your daddy,” he says as he winks at Sam.

“Did you just -?”

“Come on to you? I did.” Gabriel rakes his eyes over him. “Now, about that portrait.”

“I’m really not an artist,” Sam says.

“Of course you are. Why else would you have a studio? I’m willing to shell out a lot of money for this, so let’s get started, shall we?” He takes a moment to study the studio as if looking for something. “Is there a back room we can use?”

“I just don’t think -”

“That’s okay. You look good.”

“Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?”

“Maybe.” He spots a door at the far end of the room. “Back there should be good. Got a sofa?”

He starts to the back room, Sam scrambling to keep up.

“Why don’t we just do it in here?” he asks.

Gabriel waves his hand dismissively. “Too many windows. If I’m gonna be naked - sorry, _nude -_ I don’t want an audience.”

“Do what now? Nude? You’re gonna be nude?” Sam is absolutely certain that he is now on _Candid Camera_ or _Punk’d._ How is this happening?

“Hells yeah!” Gabriel enters the back room and makes a bee-line for the couch that’s there. It’s kind of old and ratty. “Don’t suppose you could drape a drop cloth over this thing? Might lend to the aesthetic.” He pulls his shirt over his head and starts to toe off his sneakers. “Besides, my ass is delicate. Don’t wanna damage the goods now.”

Sam doesn’t move. He’s too gobsmacked to do anything. He needs to set Novak straight, but _hello_ there’s a mile of skin in front of him and it looks soft. So soft.

Gabriel motions to an old easel in the corner. “You wanna get set up?”

He shakes his head to clear it, and Sam really wants to tell Gabriel that he’s a lawyer like he is, that his brother’s the artist, but A) five grand and 2) cute guy about to be naked. _How hard can it be,_ he thinks. Then he snorts at his play on words. “Yeah. Yeah. Give me a sec.”

Gabriel shucks his pants down leaving him in his boxer-briefs while Sam gathers the easel, a canvas and a pencil. He remembers some of the class’ canvases having pencil outlines on them in order to follow the instructions a little better. “So, I’m going to do a sketch first. It’ll give me a basic guide to follow.”

He tries his best not to stare at him, but Sam knows it’s a losing battle. He’s going to be staring at Gabriel for a while in a few minutes, so he may as well get used to it. He spots a drop cloth and quickly drapes it over the sofa.

“Paint me like one of your French girls,” Gabriel says, laughing. “God, I hate that movie.”

Sam chuckles. “Me, too. Such a contrived piece of crap.”

“Right?” Gabriel agrees. He takes off his underwear and Sam does _not_ look. Novak drapes himself across the sofa just like Rose in _Titanic._ “This good?”

Sam laughs, forcing himself to keep his eyes at neck-level and above. “Better than the George Costanza pose, I guess.”

Gabriel immediately assumes the [ position ](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51gLTt134eL.jpg). “Is this the one?”

“I think I liked you better as Rose.” Sam teases.

“Guess that makes you my Jack.” Gabriel lays back down in his original Rose-like position.

“What if I’m your Cal?” Sam teases back. He frowns at his poorly drawn picture.

“I thought you don’t know that movie.”

“I said I don’t like it. Not that I don’t know it.”

They fall into a companionable silence for a while, Gabriel trying to stay still as Sam tries his best to sketch him. He thinks he’s better than a kindergartener, but not by much. At least he’s managed to not stare at Gabriel’s dick longer than would be considered proper.

After about 45 minutes, Gabriel stretches. “Can we take a break? My old bones need to move around.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m almost done.”

Gabriel stands, and unconcerned with his nakedness, stretches one more time. He pads around the canvas Sam has been working on and busts out laughing. “That is quite possibly the _worst_ fucking drawing I’ve ever seen.”

Sam blushes. “I tried to tell you. I’m not an artist. This is my brother’s studio, and he needed me to fill in and close up for him today.” He hangs his head and then flashes his patented puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Kiddo, you’re not just whistling _Dixie_ when you say you’re not an artist.” He claps Sam on the back. “That’s okay. I had fun - Oh god.” Gabriel’s face drains.

“What? Are you all right?”

“I just realized that I’m standing here, naked, in front of a total stranger, and I wasn’t even courteous enough to ask what the fuck your name is.” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “This is one of those things my therapist tells me I need to do better with.”

“Sam. My name is Sam.”

Gabriel sticks out a hand and they shake. “Well, My Name Is Sam, since it’s obvious you’re not an artist, what exactly is your day job?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Really.”

“I am. I work over at Squires, Holden, Weisenbacher, and Smith.”

“Well, Sam. I’m guessing you know who I am.”

“I do, Mr. Novak,” Sam says carefully.

“Please. Call me Gabriel. I’m standing here with my dick swinging in the wind for god’s sake. The least you can do is call me by my first name.” He wiggles his hips a little for emphasis.

Sam snorts out a laugh. “Sure. Gabriel.”

“How about I get dressed and we go get a drink?”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! And if you’re good - or very, very bad - I’ll let you see my dick again.”

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](http://www.trekchik.tumblr.com).


End file.
